Crucio: Unforgivable
by WaningMoon
Summary: The fourth part in the Crucio series. Sirius talks about Bella. Only, well, it's not so much about Bella as it is about him. Heh. Read and review thanks!


**A/N: After a long wait, here's the next part of _Crucio_! The long wait was because my beta reader's out of town and I just couldn't remember to send it to her online. Anyway, enjoy, and if you like it, review! Thanks!**

_**Crucio: Unforgivable**_

_Bellatrix? You raised me from the dead to interview me about Bellatrix? Have you lost your head? What makes you think I want to talk to you about that psychotic bitch? She killed me, for god's sakes!_

_Bella was crazy, to put it mildly. She was always a blood purist. When I got sorted into Gryffindor she gave me hell. And I started hating her from that day on._

A sour look on his face, 11-year-old Sirius Black trailed in the back of the line of students going back to the dormitories. Not like Slytherin as he was expected. No, he followed behind the students heading to Gryffindor. He was half-afraid of what his father would think, after finding out that his son had befouled the Black family name by getting sorted into Gryffindor. He stared down at the feet of the person in front of him, dragging his own feet, as though by doing so, he could delay the inevitable.

Suddenly a shadow came over him, and he found himself looking at a different set of feet. This pair was clad in pink and black sneakers, a pair that was all too familiar to him. He swallowed, afraid to look up even as he did so. He found himself looking into the brown eyes and manic black hair of his cousin Bella, and his heart began to beat like a jackrabbit on drugs. (If he knew what a jackrabbit on drugs was, at any rate.) He swallowed again.

"Hi, Bell –" he began, but Bella cut him off.

"Gryffindor?" she hissed. "_Gryffindor_? Of all the ways you could have disgraced the family name, you chose to do it by getting yourself sorted into _GRYFFINDOR_?!" She was nearly screeching now, and her voice echoed off the walls of the now-nearly-empty hallways.

"I didn't _choose_ Gryffindor!" he shot back, anger boiling up inside him. "It's the stupid Sorting Hat's fault!"

"Sorting Hat, shmorting hat!" she retorted. "Guess what, dear cousin? I am going to make your life a living hell."

She whirled around, black robes and crazy curls swirling dramatically as she made her exit, storming to the Slytherin dormitory.

Sirius remained in the hallway, shaking with silent rage, angry that his cousin had humiliated him in front of…well, alright, so no one was here. He looked around, and his brown eyes landed on a first-year not much taller than himself, with messy black hair and hazel eyes hidden behind black-framed glasses, standing next to a painting. Both boy and painting stared at him.

"What are you looking at?" Sirius challenged, standing up a little straighter, a trick he used on Regulus to intimidate his younger brother.

"You and your…sister?" the boy guessed. "You're one of those purebloods aren't you? The kind that believes that Muggles and half-bloods shouldn't be allowed into Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, so what if I am?" Sirius drew closer to him, but the boy didn't back down or step back.

Instead, he crossed his arms, staring defiantly back at Sirius. "Let's get one thing straight: if you mess with any of the Gryffindors, you're going to have to deal with me. James Potter."

"Ooh, I'm so scared," Sirius sneered. "What are you going to do to me, huh, Potter?"

Before James could answer, a set of footsteps echoed through the hallways, and the imposing figure of a young Minerva McGonagall followed. She stopped at the sight of the two boys staring at each other, each silently provoking the other into a fight.

"What are you boys still doing here?" she demanded, attracting their attention. "Lost your way to Gryffindor house? Come along, follow me."

Without waiting for a reply, she started off, dark emerald green robes swishing behind her. Still glaring at each other, the two boys followed silently.

_Bellatrix really did make my life hell. She jinxed and hexed me every opportunity she could. Professor McGonagall made her sit next to her during Quidditch matches, because she kept trying to hex my broom._

_I think Bella was tougher on Andy than on me. If Sirius was the black sheep it was fine, because Sirius wasn't her brother. But Andromeda could not have anything to do with Muggles, no; Andromeda was Bellatrix's sister, and Bellatrix's sister would never have anything to do with Muggles. At least, that's what I reckon._

_Azkaban was interesting for me, particularly because Bella and I were next door to each other and she didn't even know it._

Prisoner Number 812-309, otherwise known as Sirius Black, sat in a corner of his cell. He clutched the lucky ring that the love of his life had given him in their 6th year at Hogwarts in one hand, and with the other he wrote on the wall with a piece of charcoal that had rolled into his cell.

Bellatrix's frequent bursts of screaming and the occasional sound of her pounding the impenetrable walls made up the soundtrack to the letters he wrote on the wall. Every time the guard came and wiped his walls clean impatiently, he started on a new letter, writing to a different person. It was his way of maintaining his sanity, something that Bella hadn't been able to do.

He remembered the roller-coaster journey of her mental state: initially, she had been calm, quiet, convinced that the remaining Death Eaters would break her out. After all, she had been He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's favourite, had she not? But as time passed, she began increasingly aggravated, and this had translated into her screaming at whoever passed by her cell. It had driven Sirius crazy at first, but then he had gotten used to it, just like he had gotten used to everything else in Azkaban.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention. He turned away from the wall, looking outside his cell. Sure enough, the long flickering shadow played on the cells across his, marking the arrival of the newly-appointed Minister for Magic, his assistant and one of the guards.

The party of three stopped outside his cell. "Sirius Black, sir," the guard announced gruffly. He waved his wand, and Sirius' walls were clean again.

"Good day, Minister," Sirius said amicably. "You wouldn't happen to have today's newspaper, would you? The guards don't approve of my reading habits."

The Minister was visibly surprised. He must have heard the rumor about Sirius' sanity, but seeing it first-hand was probably quite an experience for him. He cleared his throat, attempting to compose himself.

"I-I'm afraid I do _not_ have today's newspaper," the Minister replied, glancing at the guard. "But, um, I could, uh, I could arrange to have a newspaper sent to you every day."

The guard began to protest, but the Minister silenced him by holding up a hand. "You're a very interesting character, Black," the Minister continued, regaining control over the situation.

"Why, thank you, sir," Sirius responded, unsure what to make of that comment.

"It's unfortunate that you have a life sentence in Azkaban. Someone who has lasted as long as you while maintaining your sanity would do very well in a position in the Ministry. Good day, Black." And with that, the Minister walked off to the next cell.

Sirius turned back to the wall, a puzzled smile on his face. He didn't quite understand what just happened, but of three things he was sure: one, that he had just met the new Minister for Magic; two, that he was now to get the _Daily Prophet_ on a daily basis; and three, that he was doing so much better than Bellatrix was.

_I don't know what else I can tell you. I…please, will you just send me back? I've really had enough. I don't appreciate being brought back to talk about her. Although I daresay I didn't tell you much about her._

_If you don't mind, sir, I bid you good day._

**-|end|-**


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